Rushing Fools
by Blinguist
Summary: It sounds like a lovely evening, Spock." A one shot, follow-up to "Tripping a Light Tango," that takes a peek into Spock and Nyota's first date.


I do not own Star Trek—drat!

Thanks to all those who suggested I do a follow up to "Tripping a Light Tango," delving into Spock and Nyota's date. I had loads of fun writing this one.

And a special, special thanks to **januaryfreeze92** for acting as beta for this story. You're such a trooper! ;)

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Nyota sat anxiously on the sofa in the dorm room she and Gaila shared. It had been a week to the day since she and Spock had wowed everyone at the Benefit Ball with their Tango and she had been the perfect case study in serenity up until two hours ago when she started getting ready for their date.

Amazing! Was she truly about to go on a date with Commander Spock? At times she wondered if it was all just some crazy dream that only seemed to last for the past seven days and that, at any moment, she would wake to find that Spock hadn't really swept her off her feet — literally or figuratively.

"You okay, Nyota?" Gaila asked from the small kitchenette, where she was gulping down a cup of tea.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well, because your leg has been twitching a mile a minute and you've been biting your nails — all 10 of them."

"Hm?" Nyota mumbled, not fully realizing her pinky finger was still in her mouth. Once she came to her senses, she blurted out, "Oh crap! Can I borrow your nail file?"

"Sure thing." Gaila smiled before taking another swig of the soothing red tea. She continued, "You better hurry though. Commander hottie is due in T-minus-five minutes, and you know he's notorious for being early."

Nyota released a volley of daggers with the look she gave Gaila as she rose from the sofa, heading straight towards the bathroom. "You are not helping."

"I wasn't trying to," the Orion replied, playfully sticking out her tongue.

Just then the door bell rang and a look of terror came over Nyota's face.

"Oops!" Gaila apologetically remarked, as if she were somehow responsible for summoning Spock with her statement.

"Gaila, what am I going to do?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't go out looking like THIS," Nyota hissed as she displayed her tattered nails. "Tell him I'm not feeling well and we've got to do this another time."

"Are you crazy! Don't be ridiculous, Nyota. I'll keep him busy while you take care of your nails. Go... go!" she exclaimed, commandingly pointing at the bathroom door.

The door bell rang once more and Gaila shouted, "Be right there!"

She turned to Nyota and quietly, yet sternly, continued, "Suck it up! You are Cadet Nyota Uhura — one of the most brilliant students in the Academy. Most of the time you're too smart for your own good, but this is not one of those moments to over think the situation. Now I expect you to get in there, fix your raggedy nails, and return to the living room looking cool, calm, and absolutely resplendent!"

Like a good soldier, Nyota finally made her way to the bathroom, feeling more confident in having received her orders.

***

"So, is it safe to ask what plans you've made for this evening?" Nyota inquired.

Both she and Spock had done an exemplary job of maintaining their professionalism throughout the week leading up to their date. Neither had brought up the subject of that extraordinary night at the ball, and for that Nyota was grateful. She knew herself well enough to know that reflecting too much on that night would have rendered her a nervous wreck.

"I believe so," Spock responded, opening the taxi door and assisting her into the back seat where he soon joined her. "Do you enjoy the symphony?"

Nyota's eyes sparkled. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"Davies Symphony Hall," Spock answered. Then, directing his attention to Nyota, he said, "The San Francisco Symphony is performing tonight, and I thought it would be a most appropriate activity for our social engagement."

Nyota smiled to herself at Spock's use of the term 'social engagement' in favor of good, old-fashioned 'date.'

"Afterwards, I thought we would have dinner at Yusai. Hopefully this itinerary is acceptable?"

"It sounds like a lovely evening, Spock. I'm sure it will _be_ a lovely evening."

Nyota discerned a bit of nervousness between the two of them that had not existed before. They were both venturing into territory that neither had expected to navigate - as his student, she was in awe of the intelligence he possessed and the ease with which he could recall data and facts. As her teacher, he was impressed at how fearless she was at meeting the demands of the Academy head on. Nyota was extremely bright and so advanced in her studies that, in some cases, he recognized she surpassed some of her instructors in pure knowledge, yet still had a hunger to know more.

Nyota felt like she was reverting to her teenage years, when receiving a hello from the most popular boy in school would send her heart racing into orbit. She had always found Spock attractive, but until their connection at the ball, she hadn't thought of him as the romantic type. However, unlikely as it seemed, the reticent Spock was a Lothario in the making. She felt it most distinctly as his hands danced across her body the week before.

Spock was fighting the urge to kiss her ever since he first set eyes on her in the dorm room, when she glided into the living area donning a striking orange frock that perfectly complemented her caramel skin. He briefly wondered if he should have spent more time meditating earlier that afternoon.

The couple arrived at the auditorium and quickly made their way to their reserved seats. Spock noticed that Nyota had not stopped smiling since entering the expansive hall and, once they sat quietly in their seats, that she leaned forward ever so slightly as if to meet the sounds of the  
musicians warming up their instruments.

"Perhaps you can clarify something for me, Nyota."

"What's that?" she replied, still keeping her eyes fixed on the stage.

"Your decision to enter the Academy seems rather puzzling. You have demonstrated an undeniable talent for dance and it is obvious that you have a deep appreciation for music. In addition, I have been told that you possess exceptional vocal skill. Why not pursue a career in the arts?"

Nyota sat back in her seat with a look of contemplation in her eyes. "I needed to be challenged. After years of dance and singing lessons, it had all become so comfortable. I won't lie to you — I was scared to death before entering the Academy, but I used that fear as a motivation."

"Fascinating," Spock remarked, keeping his gaze on her.

The swelling applause within the hall signaled the maestro's entry onto the stage. Nyota began clapping as well and was giddy with anticipation. Her focus was on the symphony and Spock's was on her. She could see him gazing at her from the corner of her eye and felt warmth flush across her cheeks.

While immensely impressed by being taken to the symphony on a first date, part of her was hoping they would have just gone to a movie. Passionately kissing your companion during a performance of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons," would certainly be frowned upon, she mused.

Concerto No. 1 "La Primavera" soon began and Nyota was intensely grateful that it would provide some distraction from the image of her making out with Spock that had been floating in her head since the moment she took her seat.

Halfway through the second movement, Nyota could no longer restrain herself from establishing some sort of contact with him. She innocently wrapped her arm around his. They looked at one another for a moment before she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Thank you."

Spock, no longer willing to keep himself completely in check, decided that planting a small peck on her lips would not be too inappropriate at that moment. Besides, the rest of the audience was enraptured by the performance and wouldn't even notice.

Just as their faces moved slowly towards each other, Spock was stopped by a tap on his shoulder. He quickly turned to face the usher that was standing in the aisle with another couple standing right behind him.

"Sir, I'll need you to come with me?"

"What is the problem?"

"Sir, ma'am, just come with me."

A confused Spock and Nyota rose from their seats and followed the usher as he turned to tell the other couple, "I apologize for the inconvenience. Please enjoy the show."

***

"What?!" Spock and Nyota simultaneously exclaimed.

"They are counterfeit tickets. The only reason you got to hear as much of the symphony as you did is because the rightful ticket holders were late."

"There must be some sort of mistake. If they were counterfeit, why were we not prohibited from entering when we produced them at the front door?" Spock inquired.

"Oh, there is no doubt they are very good counterfeits, right down to the bar code. But Mr. and Mrs. Randall are patrons of the symphony, so guess who we're going to trust has the authentic set of tickets?"

"Yes, quite logical," Spock agreed.

"Where exactly did you get the tickets?" Nyota questioned.

"A few days ago, Cadet Kirk came to my office and was extremely apologetic for the prank he unsuccessfully tried to pull on you and me. He gave me these tickets as a peace offer…" Spock's voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying.

"Kirk!" Nyota hissed, "I am going to wring his neck!"

***

The slightly dispirited pair hopped into the first cab they were able to hail outside of the concert hall. The first few minutes in the cab were spent in silence until Spock finally said, "I cannot apologize enough for putting you in such a precarious situation."

"Really, Spock, I'm fine. Don't worry about it, okay? It wasn't your fault."

"That is no excuse. I should have been more astute. However, Cadet Kirk _was_ convincingly contrite when he offered me the tickets."

"You will learn that Kirk is a man of many dubious talents," Nyota giggled, "If he hadn't joined the Academy, I'm sure he would have made a great…"

"…thespian?" Spock interrupted.

Nyota laughed heartily and replied, "I was going to say con artist."

"Your assessment is indeed better than mine. Grifter would have been the more logical path for him," Spock smirked.

"The best way to handle him is to make sure you don't give him the satisfaction of winning — or even thinking he's won. If… no, WHEN he asks you how you enjoyed the symphony, just tell him that we had a wonderful time."

Spock tilted his head to the side and responded, "That would be dishonest, Nyota."

"You can always imply without lying, per se."

"But…"

"Don't worry about Kirk. You leave him to me. Besides, I'm sure I will see him before you do."

Spock's body tensed as he sat up straight in the back seat. In his most official sounding voice he commanded, "I must insist that you refrain from having any direct contact with Cadet Kirk."

"Excuse me?" Nyota retorted. "Um, don't you think it's a bit early in this… THIS to be jealous?" Nyota was hesitant to say 'relationship', since she wasn't exactly sure what she and Spock had. All she had the courage to muster was the word 'this' as she pointed her finger rapidly back and forth between the two of them.

"Jealous?" Spock parroted in confusion, "Not jealousy, Nyota. I am merely concerned that you will cause bodily harm to Cadet Kirk, inevitably resulting in your expulsion from the Academy."

"Why would you think that?"

"Did you not say earlier, and I quote, 'I am going to wring his neck.'"

"Just a figure of speech. The most I'd do is slap him silly. That won't get me kicked out, right?" The two shared a muted laugh that helped melt a bit more of the nervous tension that remained between them.

"So, you would only be worried about me getting kicked out, huh? What about Kirk's physical well being?"

"_That_ is of no concern to me, particularly at this moment. And especially because I am still unconvinced that his juvenile prank did not completely ruin your evening."

Nyota reached over, gently placing her palm on the back of his hand, causing him to turn from staring out of the window to look directly into her eyes. She smiled so sweetly that he felt his heart would burst if he didn't begin to maintain his composure. He twisted his hand underneath hers to allow their palms to come into contact. Nyota could feel a familiar wave of electricity course through her body as they slowly knitted their fingers together. She blinked in, what seemed to be, slow motion and inhaled deeply.

"Are you convinced now that I'm okay?" she enticingly breathed into his ear.

Spock's only response was to lean in for a kiss, one that Nyota was more than happy to receive.

"That will be $10.50," the cabbie barked from the front seat as the taxi came to a jolting stop. Spock was foiled once again in his attempt to quench his thirst for Nyota's lips.

Nyota let out a disappointed sigh that would have been imperceptible to human ears. However, the sound could not escape Spock's heightened sense of hearing and it pleased him to know that she desired his kiss as much as he desired hers.

***

Nyota found the atmosphere in Yusai to be quite charming. The lighting was soothing, the music was enchanting, and her dinner companion was spellbinding.

The Asian fusion restaurant had received rave reviews and was highly recommended by Captain Pike when Spock inquired about an appropriate dining establishment for a 'special evening.' He was extremely grateful that his mentor did not pry for additional details, and willingly endured the knowing smile the captain shot him.

Spock and Nyota were becoming more at ease with one another with each passing moment. The 'first date' jitters had completely dissipated as they made small talk that provided insight into who they were beyond Commander and Cadet. Spock learned about Nyota's childhood and how growing up as the only girl in a family of three boys fostered her competitive nature. Nyota learned of his decision to join Starfleet after _his_ rejection of the Vulcan Science Academy's invitation. This was contrary to the popular belief on campus that the VSA had rejected him. Nyota could add 'rebel' to the list of adjectives that were shaping and defining this new Spock that she was discovering — a list that already included 'dancer' and 'lothario.'

When their food arrived, they were surprised at how quickly the time seemed to have passed. Neither of them had eaten anything since breakfast, so they were both looking forward to enjoying their meal.

Between the subdued lighting and her fixation on a particularly appetizing prawn that sat deftly atop a mound of jasmine rice, Nyota had not noticed the bundle of roses their waiter handed to Spock.

"Nyota," he beckoned.

"Yes?" she replied, her head still down as she placed a napkin on her lap.

"These are for you," he said, softly smiling as he presented the lovely blooms that perfectly matched her dress.

Nyota looked up to see Spock extending his arm with the bouquet cradled in his hands. She just stared at them for a few seconds as her eyes widened.

"Oh no," she said with a hint of terror in her voice.

"What is the matter? Is it the color? I am sorry. The color is indeed a bit bold and assuming for our first evening together. I should have chosen a more appropriate color, such as white or pink, at the most."

"No, no. It's not that. It's just that I'm… I'm…. ACHOO!"

"Allergic to flowers," Spock surmised.

Nyota shook her head as she prepared for another sneeze that she successfully staved off.

"Not all flowers, just… just… ACHOO!!" The second sneeze was twice as forceful as the first.

"Roses. Most unfortunate." Spock finished.

Spock quickly hurled the assaulting flowers in the bin of a busboy that was speeding past their table, making his way to the kitchen. The confused young man stopped in his tracks, looked at the flowers, then looked at Spock for an explanation.

"ACHOO!!"

Having received his answer from Nyota, he scurried away from the table as rapidly as he could.

Nyota stood to leave the table and told Spock, "I'll be right back, I'm going to go to the restroom."

She was frozen in place as she sensed another sneeze was about to erupt. She closed her eyes, and consequently could not see in her peripheral vision that a waiter was approaching to serve the table next to theirs. Once the sneeze had met with sweet release, her body was propelled backwards as she bumped into the unsuspecting gentleman, causing him to drop the food that rested in his arms.

Nyota was horrified. However, for a moment all Spock could think about was how this incident was a textbook demonstration of Newton's third law of physics: to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

"Fascinating," he whispered and contemplatively shook his head.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," Nyota apologetically intoned.

Spock immediately stood next to her in a show of support and reiterated her sentiments to the waiter and the couple whose dinner was ruined. He wrapped his arm around her waist in an effort to prevent her from causing any further damage. At least that would be his excuse if she had any objection to his closeness.

"Forgive me, sir, madam. I did not know that my…"

"ACHOO!!"

"…companion was allergic to roses. In my efforts to show her a small token of my…"

"ACHOO!!"

"…affection, I unintentionally caused a reaction that subsequently ruined your meal. Please accept my apologies and my offer to pay for this and your replacement meal. Come, Nyota, you need fresh air."

"ACHOO!!"

***

Fresh air was precisely what Nyota needed to become a person who was once again fit to interact with the general public. She and Spock strolled quietly down the street as her allergic attack eventually subsided. It was now Nyota's turn to beg forgiveness for a less than ideal turn of events.

"I am so sorry, Spock," she mumbled sheepishly.

"For an involuntary reaction your body had to an allergen? That is most illogical. You had no control over what happened. Well, except for standing up just as the waiter approached."

"Hey!" she playfully replied.

They continued their aimless journey down the sidewalk and Nyota spotted a food cart at the edge of a small park.

"Oh, thank goodness. I am absolutely starving," she exclaimed. "Let's see if he has anything good left."

They placed their request for two orders of noodles that the vendor happily served up in disposable containers. Nytoa grabbed two sets of chop sticks and the couple made their way to the nearest park bench so they could feast on the most appreciated containers of cheap lo mein in San Francisco.

Nyota deposited a heaping bite of noodles in her mouth and gave a reaction fitting of a meal that had been prepared by a world renowned gourmet chef.

"These are soooooo good," she uttered.

"Are they that good, or are you that hungry?"

"Right now, it doesn't matter."

They laughed and a few words were exchanged as they devoured their meals and gulped down their bottles of water.

"Ah. Much better," Nyota mused as Spock collected their trash and placed it in the bin next to the park bench.

"Should I hail a taxi so we can head back to campus?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to just sit here for a while."

"As you wish," he happily conceded.

Nyota placed her elbow on the back of the bench and rested her head in the palm of her hand. She looked over to Spock and examined his profile. The enticing curve of his ear and his strong jaw line were causing all kinds of thoughts to float through her head — the vision of her and Spock making out not being the least of them.

"Spock," she purred with just the right amount of suggestion in her voice.

He turned to look into her eyes. "Yes, Nyota?"

"The roses were absolutely lovely. Well, what I could see of them before you hurled them at the busboy. It was a thoughtful surprise. How did you know to get orange to match my dress?"

"Actually, that was a complete coincidence."

"Oh. That's interesting."

"In what way?"

"We apparently both have orange on the brain."

"Orange on the brain?"

"Don't be coy with me, Mr. 'I-should-have-bought-white-roses.' I know that you know very well what orange signifies when it comes to flowers. Excitement, romance, passion. Am I wrong?"

As she concluded, Spock turned his head the other way hoping to shield the blush that was rising in his cheeks. She immediately cradled his jaw and pivoted his face so they were once again looking at each other.

"I didn't wear this color by accident, anymore than you bought orange roses by accident."

Spock gulped hard. He was certain that nothing would prevent him, this time, from realizing the crazy dream he had since he first asked her to dinner. The insane notion that if he could confirm just once that Nyota Uhura's lips were as soft and fragrant as flower petals — preferably flower petals that didn't cause an allergic reaction, he now realized — then his mind would be sated. That he could return to meditative sessions where her face did not drift within his mind's eye every few minutes. That the restlessness he had been experiencing as he tried to sleep would be abated. These notions were insane because he knew none of those things would happen if he kissed Nyota just once. Kissing her once would not be enough. He would need more, desire more.

The instant he sealed his fate by deciding to pursue Nyota with everything that abided within him, the instant he leaned in a third time for a kiss and, the instant they were close enough for their noses to be touching, Mother Nature decided to add insult to injury. A boisterous clap of thunder rumbled through the evening sky and a deluge of rain immediately followed.

"Seriously!?" Nyota bemoaned.

***

Spock and Nyota leapt off of the park bench and made their way to an apartment building across the street. They could see the door man standing at the desk in the lobby and hoped he would not be averse to calling a cab on their behalf.

As they ran across the street, Nyota twisted her ankle and had to stop for a moment. Unfortunately, they were in the middle of the street and cars were continuing to approach. Spock instinctively scooped her up into his arms and continued to run towards the building. The door man saw them approaching and provided assistance.

Spock quickly, yet gently, lowered Nyota onto a large sofa that sat along the left wall of the lobby. The wispy fabric of her dress was soaked through and Spock, seeing her begin to shiver, instantly removed his suit jacket to cover her.

"Nyota, are you okay?" Spock asked with a healthy level of concern in his voice.

"Oh, besides twisting my ankle, looking like a drowned rat, and breaking the heel of my favorite pair of shoes, I'm just dandy."

Nyota gave in to a chuckle that progressed to a giggle, and culminated into a raucous laugh that rendered Spock and the door man dumbfounded.

"I fear that she may be suffering from delirium," Spock ascertained. Nyota reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to his knees. She grabbed his face and rested her forehead on his.

"No, Spock, I'm not delirious. I just have a really twisted sense of humor. I sometimes laugh at the most inappropriate times."

"It is good to know this for future reference. May I examine your ankle?"

"Sure. Have at it."

"Is there anything I can get for you, ma'am?" the door man cordially asked.

"Towels would be nice. Thank you."

Spock turned his attention to Nyota's ankle. He stretched her leg out and rested her foot on the front of his thigh as he sat on the floor with his legs tucked underneath him. He gently messaged the muscles on the top of her foot and gingerly moved his fingers to the front of the ankle and then around on either side. She was taken aback by how attentive he was to her most immediate need. She noticed that, as he used his thumbs to knead the muscles in her ankle, they traveled farther than necessary up the side of her leg, but she didn't mind. She unabashedly gave into the urge to stroke his drenched hair. It gave him pause as he stopped what he was doing for a moment and noisily exhaled to release the increasing pressure his desire had created. He soon renewed his task of alleviating Nyota's pain.

"Can you move your ankle at all?"

Nyota tentatively rotated her ankle and noticed the more she did so, the less  
it hurt.

"Yeah, I can. I think I just tweaked it."

"I do not believe it is sprained, but you should have it checked, just to be positive."

"Yes, Dr. Spock," Nyota jested.

The door man returned with the towels. Nyota thanked him and began drying Spock's hair.

"You do not have to dry my hair, Nyota."

"But I want to. It's the least I can do for my personal physician."

Spock could not help but smile.

Just then an elderly couple walked into the lobby, the husband was visibly angry as his wife tried her best to console him.

"Harold, would you just give it a rest?"

"I can't, Bernice. You were wonderful tonight. You blew everybody's socks off. And they give the trophy to that idiot Phil Warren for juggling a few balls in the air?"

"In all fairness, Harold, he did have a couple of flaming swords. It's hard to beat flaming swords at a senior citizen talent show."

"I don't care! You should have won that competition tonight."

"The most important thing is that I had a good time. And why did I have a good time? Because you were accompanying me — just like the old days."

Bernice leaned in and gave Harold a peck on the lips.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Harold conceded.

They began to make their way to the elevator when they noticed the trio in the seating area.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Schultz," the doorman greeted.

"Oh my!" Bernice cried looking at Nyota. "Are you alright, dear?"

"A lot better than I look," Nyota answered, "Thank you."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Spock replied, "Would you happen to have a bandage that I can use to wrap her ankle?"

Harold chimed in, "Yes, of course. I can go upstairs to our apartment and bring it down to you."

"You poor thing," Bernice said. "I hope it's not sprained."

"No, I don't think so. Just a little sore. The worst damage was done to my shoe." Nyota lifted the piece of footwear to show the woman who immediately gasped.

"Those are gorgeous! Or should I say, were gorgeous. Aw, and now they're ruined. Were they Anne Klein's?"

Nyota nodded her head in dismay. Bernice grasped at her heart.

"What is it with women and shoes?" Harold mused, shaking his head.

"Harold, bring down that pair of tennis shoes at the foot of the bed."

"I can't take your shoes," Nyota protested

"Nonsense. While I'm sure this handsome, young, strapping Vulcan…"

"Settle down, Bernice." Harold warned.

"As I was saying, while I'm sure this gentleman wouldn't mind carrying you all the way home, that's probably not the best idea. You're going to need something comfortable to wear."

Nyota looked at Spock, who replied, "Her logic is sound."

"Bring the shoes, Harold."

"Shoes and bandage coming up."

While Harold went upstairs to fetch the items, Nyota and Spock formally introduced themselves to Bernice. They told her all about their evening and all of the mishaps that occurred along the way. Spock and Nyota learned that Harold and Bernice were both former music teachers who originally met in college and performed together in a jazz band in their younger years. The door man was kind enough to bring everyone some hot tea and, as Harold returned to the group, Bernice gave him a recap of all the young duo had shared with her.

Spock once again attended to Nyota's ankle and wrapped it, making sure the bandage was tight enough to provide support but not so tight to cut off circulation. When he was done, they sweetly smiled at one another and Bernice did not allow the moment to pass by without commenting.

"Oh, Harold, look at that. They can still smile at each other after the night they just had."

Spock then took a seat next to Nyota and began drinking his cup of tea.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" Bernice continued.

"What is that?" Nyota asked. She and Spock both took a sip of tea as Bernice lodged her request.

"Invite me to the wedding."

Spock coughed as he choked on the warm liquid that trickled down his throat while Nyota produced a spit take that she had only seen before in sitcoms.

"I believe we're far from thinking about a wedding, Bernice. This is just our first date," Nyota responded nervously.

"Oh, you young people always overanalyze everything. I knew Harold was the man for me 15 minutes into our blind date."

There was a small pause as Nyota and Spock tried to pull themselves together.

"Hey, I have an idea," Harold interjected. "Why don't we do the song we did tonight for these two lovebirds?"

"That is a wonderful idea, sweetheart!"

Harold made his way to the grand piano and Bernice took her place in front of the recessed area on the right side of the jet black Steinway.

"Are you familiar with the song, 'Fools Rush In?'" Bernice asked the younger couple.

Both Spock and Nyota answered no.

"Well, listen carefully to the words. I think you'll enjoy it."

_Romance is a game for fools, I used to say.  
A game I thought I'd never play.  
Romance is a game for fools, I said and grinned.  
Then you passed by and here am I throwing caution to the wind.  
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread….._

As Bernice sang, Spock and Nyota locked their gazes on one another and neither was willing to let loose. He stood from the sofa and extended his hand to her.

"If you lean on me, is your ankle well enough for a brief dance?"

"I think so."

Nyota knew that she looked like a hot mess. She wore Spock's jacket, which engulfed half of her body, and only the slightest hint of her orange dress peeped out from the bottom. Her hair was in shambles, her eye make up betrayed her, causing her to look like a raccoon, and her feet were covered with white cross trainers borrowed from a 72-year-old retired music teacher. But all Spock could see was the most beautiful sight he had ever had the privilege to behold.

Just as Bernice instructed, they listened carefully to the lyrics while slowly swaying to Harold's masterful playing. Bernice sang with such passion that they felt the song was written specifically for them in that moment in time.

Nyota stroked the back of Spock's head and allowed her hands to trail down his neck and onto his powerful shoulders. Spock interlocked his hands behind her waist and pulled her just a bit closer to him. No, this time they would not be denied, even if the earth quaked and the building crumbled around them. Nyota forcefully drew his face closer to hers and hungrily met his lips. Spock soon discovered that he had been horribly mistaken. Nyota's lips were not as soft as flower petals — they were much, much softer. In fact, he could think of nothing that could compare to Nyota's sweet, intoxicating mouth. He had been correct about one thing, however — once was not going to be enough.

Nytoa knew that things would be different from this point on. The Spock she knew a year ago, a month ago, and even seven short days ago was not the Spock she was going to know from this point on. She realized that she was being given access to a side of him that others would not be privy to. For others didn't hold the key, they didn't have the combination to unlocking the mysteries of Spock. And, truth be told, she had no idea what it was either, but she was going to have a lot of fun discovering what it was about her that made him tick. Because another adjective had just been added to his list — 'lover.'

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**A/N** – When I first started thinking about where to go with this story, the last scene was the first I envisioned. I was inspired by Rosemary Clooney's rendition of "Fools Rush In" (something else I don't own, btw) that appeared on the soundtrack for "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil." Clooney's voice is weathered and not as silky as it was in her younger days, but I have yet to find a version of the song that moves me the way hers does. I may update the end of "Tripping a Light Tango," so that Nyota is humming this song instead, but I haven't made a final decision.

Hope you enjoyed this one!


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